Or Something (Something Good)
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Draco stared in horror at the love line on Charlie's arm. He'd never been so embarrassed. A variant on a soulmate!au.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Written for Quidditch League, Round 3.**

 _Holyhead Harpies, Beater 2_

 **Mandatory Prompt** \- Love Is All Around by Wet Wet Wet

 **Optional** \- 9. Grave / 11. Jumper/Sweater

 _All the love for Sam, who made me write this, and then beta'd it for me. You're an angel. Also so much love for my team who also beta'd the thing and made it readable :D_

Added note - this fic is AU, and a variant of a soulmate idea.

 **Word Count - 2701**

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 **Or Something (Something Good)**

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Draco lounged on his bed, tracing the love line on his stomach. It was his oldest line, received from his mother when he was a tiny baby.

 _My little Dragon._

The silver shone brightly; his mother's love never in question.

That was part of the reason for Draco's guilt. With his father dead, his mother was about to be left all alone in the manor. He'd offered to stay, but she waved off every word, ignoring his offers and demanding he leave to start his own life.

He'd never appreciated his mother more.

Turning his attention to the love line on his hip, Draco stared at the words.

 _You'll make me proud, my heir._

They'd dulled to a shade of powder grey, the giver of the words buried six feet underground. His father had never called him _son_ and the words grated on him whenever he looked at them. He was always 'the heir', important because he was an extension of Lucius, not because he was his _son_.

He'd forgiven his father for much, but never that. He didn't think he ever would.

His other love lines were dotted around his skin, all in varying shades of silver; all friendship marks. He didn't bare the red of a romance line, only the silver of platonic love. He wondered if he ever would; he wondered if he'd ever _want_ to.

Some people had many love lines. They had so many people love them, that their skin was covered almost completely. Draco had often thought about how it would be to feel so much love.

Love lines only appeared when the giver felt genuine love for the recipient after all.

…

Leaving his mother had been as hard as he'd known it would be and yet, when he arrived in the sweltering climate of Romania, Draco felt freer than he ever had before in his life.

Here, he was Draco Malfoy, Intern.

There was no attention on him because of the many mistakes he'd made in his youth, no expectations on him to follow his father's footsteps into politics and lying and shady deals.

The only expectation of him here was to do as he was told and to learn as much as he could.

And then he was assigned a trainer and his heart sunk, because there was no way Charlie Weasley could look at him objectively after all that Draco had done and said to his younger siblings.

Except.

Except, Charlie offered him a bright smile and launched into a long winded explanation of the reserve and the dragons they housed there. They walked while Charlie talked, Charlie pointing out the various places on the reserve.

Charlie's smile remained present, but it was never brighter than when he was talking about the dragons, his fondness and affection for the creatures so apparent that it lifted Draco's own lips into a small smile.

That smile only grew bigger when Charlie led him to the hatchery.

"We've only got one baby at the moment, but there are three eggs being nested by their mothers that we're keeping our eye on as well."

"What happened to this one's mother?" Draco asked, his heart melting as he took in the tiny dragon, its blue and green scales shimmering in the light coming through the large windows.

Charlie's smile faded. "She rejected the egg, refused to nest him. It happens," he added, his shoulders lifting in a slight shrug, though he looked sad.

"Well, I'm sure you take great care of him," Draco replied quietly, wanting to comfort Charlie and not really knowing why. He wasn't usually the comforting type. "What's his name?"

"Doryu."

Charlie pulled the sleeves of his shirt up, and carefully opened the hatch of the small enclosure. Doryu nipped at his fingers, making Charlie chuckle.

Draco's eye were no longer on the dragon, and instead were taking in the lines wrapping around Charlie's forearm.

They looked…

He tore his eyes away just as Charlie looked at him, and forced a smile before he turned his attention back to Doryu.

He wondered what had happened to Charlie to cause such scars and tried not to think about just how much they looked like self inflicted marks.

It was none of his business.

…

A month into his internship, and Draco already knew that this was the life he wanted. He woke up every morning excited for the day to come.

Charlie would always be waiting for him at the food hall, and they'd eat together before they got to work. From there, it would be a blur of danger, hard work and, when the opportunity came up, real interaction with the dragons.

Draco lived for those moments, both because they were his favourite moments and because Charlie lit up like the sun whenever he was near the dragons.

They were visiting the Horntail enclosure when Draco met Charlie's biggest love on the reservation.

Henrietta, named by Charlie and reared by him, flew down to greet him at his whistle. Draco could only watch in awe as the large dragon _flopped_ on the ground, allowing Charlie to stroke her snout.

"She gave me my first love lines here," Charlie told him quietly, gesturing to the lines Draco had taken for scars on his forearm. "People don't understand that creatures, and beasts, and any beings that aren't human for that matter, love just as much as people do. Love is all around, and it's so different and yet completely the same, and it makes me sad that people don't understand that."

Draco edged closer, his eyes once more on the lines.

"Can I see?" he asked, gesturing to Charlie's arm.

Charlie nodded, moving his arm closer to Draco. Now that he was closer, Draco could see that they were tendrils of smoke, wrapping around his arm.

"They're beautiful."

"You'll get some too, if you stick around," Charlie told him. "All the trainers have them."

Draco snorted. "Dragons, and other creatures and beasts, like those who are pure. I'm not pure, Charlie. Not by a long shot."

Charlie stared at him appraisingly for a moment. "Mark my words. You'll get some."

…

Draco couldn't believe it when Charlie met him with a large grin and a slice of cake, packaged prettily with a candle poking out of the top.

"What's this for?"

"It's your one year anniversary! You graduate to a full trainer in two more weeks, all going well."

Draco blinked. "For real?"

Laughing, Charlie rolled his eyes. "Do you pay attention to anything?"

Draco blushed and ducked his head. "Thanks. For the, erm, cake. And… well. For being nice?"

Softening, Charlie nudged Draco gently with his elbow. "Come on, Doryu is being released into the big enclosure with the other Ironbellies today. We need all hands on deck in case it goes badly."

Releasing Doryu did not go well.

Later that night, Draco left his hut for the dragon infirmary, unable to sleep with his worry.

He wasn't completely surprised to find Charlie there, watching the injured dragon with a sad look on his face.

"You okay?" Draco asked, sidling up next to him to look through the window.

Charlie shrugged. "I'd hoped it would go better."

Draco nodded, patting his arm. "I know. But… he's alive. And he'll recover."

"He'll be scared to go back, though. I don't want him to spend all of his time in isolation because Injah can't play nicely with new males."

"If anyone can fix this, it's you."

Charlie's lips tilted up and he side-eyed Draco gratefully. "Thanks. You… you did really well out there today, you know?"

Draco felt his cheeks heat but he accepted the compliment.

"You are going to stick around once you get your credentials, right?" Charlie asked suddenly.

Draco nodded. "Of course I am. I mean, I'll take the week leave and visit Mother, but I'll definitely be coming back."

Charlie grinned. "I have leave at the same time. It'll be good to see the family, but I'm always ready to come home at the end of it."

Draco hummed in agreement, absently wondering when Romania had become more home than England.

…

Draco sent the letter without much thought. He didn't think Charlie would mind, and he honestly didn't think he could face his father's grave on his own.

Having seen the sense of family on the reserve, having _felt_ it, it was only now that he was realising exactly what his father had deprived him of growing up.

The resentment was real, but he also knew that he had to go to the grave. No matter what else had happened, that was where his father was buried and he would show his respect.

He'd enjoyed the five days he'd spent with his mother, and the evening he'd managed to get together with Blaise and Theo, but as Charlie had said before they left Romania, he was ready to go _home._

"Hey."

Draco blinked, smiling slightly when he saw Charlie standing in front of him, his red hair blowing madly in the wind. He looked surprisingly casual, and it was only now that Draco realised it wasn't just on the reserve that Charlie chose not to wear robes.

Dressed in jeans and a well fitted jumper, he looked _good._

"You okay?" Charlie asked, looking hesitant in a way Draco had never seen.

He nodded. "I'm okay. I just… didn't really want to go alone, and Mother is spending the weekend with her sister, Andromeda."

Charlie grinned. "Teddy will keep her busy, I'm sure."

"You know Teddy?"

"Harry is his godfather," Charlie replied with a shrug. "He's a great kid. Loves dragons."

Draco's smile widened. Of course that would be what Charlie focused on. He nodded his head in the direction of the grave, and the two of them walked side by side towards it, Charlie just a few inches closer than was probably necessary.

The gravestone was elegant, of course, befitting of Lucius Malfoy. He'd chosen it himself, long before his death. White marble looming up over the rest of the stones in the grounds, Draco couldn't imagine there were any headstones more ostentatious.

Charlie was quiet when Draco conjured and laid a wreath, and he kept a respectful distance when Draco stared at the stone for a long moment, a single tear dripping onto his pale cheek as he mentally screamed at the headstone, all the words he wished he could've said to his father.

While it would have likely been therapeutic to get it all out in the open, he was more grateful to have Charlie as a silent presence than to be able to do that.

Charlie always made things better, Draco was realising. It had been that way since that first day.

He shivered against the wind, cursing himself for not taking a robe with him. He'd thought it wouldn't be so cold with all the tree cover in the area.

"Here," Charlie murmured, shrugging out of his jumper and handing over.

"I can cast a warming charm, you know?" Draco replied, though he took the jumper, pulling it over his head. He knew he must look ridiculous, the jumper was at least three sizes too big, and yet, he immediately loved it.

He could smell Charlie's unique aroma on it, and it gave him a feeling of safety he wasn't used to feeling, particularly so close to home.

Charlie smiled at him. "Maybe I just wanted to see you wearing my jumper. You look adorable, by the way."

"I'm not adorable!" Draco argued, a fierce blush covering his cheeks.

"Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that, Draco."

…

Draco was sweating. It was a warm night, and yet, he still wore Charlie's jumper as he laid in his small bed. It had long lost Charlie's smell, but Draco could no longer sleep without it. Even without the smell, wearing it still gave Draco a sense of safety.

It was a few nights earlier, when Draco had tried to sleep without it and _failed dismally_ that he realised he was in trouble.

That still didn't stop him from wearing the jumper. It was a comfort, and Draco wasn't want to deny himself that.

Not even when he knew, in the long run, it was probably going to hurt.

…

The lines appeared on his forearm, wrapping up from his wrist to his elbow, and Draco just about fainted with shock.

"Charlie! Charlie, look!" he called, not too loud as to startle the dragons, but loud enough to convey his excitement.

Charlie's grin was wide and happy when he saw the tendrils of smoke on Draco's arm and he raised his eyebrow.

"I told you so."

They watched, together, as _I told you so_ was etched across Draco's skin, right around his elbow joint, in a bright, startling, _red_.

Draco didn't know what to do, so he ran.

Charlie loved him. The thought was rattling around his mind on a loop as Draco stayed in his hut for the rest of the day. There had been a knock, an hour or so after he'd locked the door, but he'd ignored it. He didn't know how to handle the love line, and until he did, he couldn't face Charlie.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why he hadn't gained a silver love line from Charlie over the last few months, but had decided that perhaps, he'd felt more strongly about their friendship than Charlie did and had dismissed the thought as best he could whenever it tormented him.

He stared down at his elbow, the red words as bright and startling as they'd been when they first appeared.

Draco could admit that part of him, a large part, was happy that the line was red. He thought that perhaps, if Charlie was to get a love line from him, it would more likely be red than silver, simply because Draco couldn't imagine his life without Charlie now and… that wasn't simple friendship.

Yawning, he grabbed Charlie's jumper, pulling it over his head. He was about to head for bed when a soft knock sounded at his door.

Crossing the small room, he pulled the door open, blinking when he saw Charlie standing there. The knock hadn't been Charlie's usual, and he'd expected it to be one of the other trainers, checking in on him at Charlie's request.

"Can I come in?" Charlie asked quietly.

His hair was a mess, clearly he'd been running his hands through it a lot, Draco mused. That was one of Charlie's tells, the first thing he did whenever he was stressed or upset. He stepped back, opening the door wider for Charlie to enter.

"I… At first, I was going to apologise," Charlie said after a rather pregnant pause. "And then I realised that I'm not sorry in the slightest, so… no apology. I am sorry if you're not happy about it but… Draco, I got a love line from you weeks ago. And it was red. And… I thought, maybe if you, and I mean obviously I…"

He broke off, running his hand through his hair, messing it up even further.

Draco blinked. "I. Erm. You got a red love line from me weeks ago? What… when? Why didn't you tell me?"

Charlie stared at him for a moment. "Your reaction today should be evidence enough why I didn't tell you before. But," he raised his shirt until Draco could see the red line running along Charlie's hips.

Draco groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. " _Of course_ it's that."

Charlie chuckled, covering up the mark that to Draco's eternal horror, read, _I'm not adorable!_

"Just… I'm not saying we have to jump into anything. Just… we could. Try? Maybe? You know, go on a date, or something?"

Draco felt his lips turning up in a smile. "Or something?"

"Oh hush, ya jerk," Charlie muttered. "I've never… romance isn't really… I was always more interested in the dragons, you know?"

Draco nodded. "I'd like that. To go on a date, I mean. Or something."

Charlie returned his smile, raising his hand to caress Draco's cheek gently. "Or something it is."


End file.
